


the hardest part of this is leaving you

by impravidus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Sick Character, Sickfic, Terminal Illnesses, Vacation, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 22:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20478323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/pseuds/impravidus
Summary: A story following Peter Parker after being diagnosed with a terminal illness.(Tony is alive, Mysterio didn't happen)





	the hardest part of this is leaving you

He felt like he was in a wind tunnel, words flying around him like air blasting against his body, too fast to understand but still blasting against his core like bullet.

He felt like he was drowning in quicksand and every move he made brought him deeper and deeper into the throat-closing abyss.

He felt like he was being buried alive and every breath he took was more dirt in his lungs.

He felt like the walls were made of spikes and every breath he took, the closer the walls would come in to impale every square inch of his body. 

He felt like he swallowed lead and his stomach was going to burst from the weight.

He felt… he felt… he felt numb. 

CAM. That’s what they called it. Cellulae Apicales Mortiferum, Latin for dying cells. It was essentially the opposite of cancer, the cells in your body deteriorating into nothing. For some it starts in their legs or arms and they just become paralyzed before they can stop the spread. Some it starts in the bad places like the heart or the brain and they’re gone before they can react. For Peter it was starting in his feet, the most desirable CAM because it only has up to spread. 

However, nothing about CAM is desirable, especially when you’re a hypermetabolic, superhuman that modern medicine doesn’t pertain to.

He didn’t notice the CAM. He chalked up the dull, numb throb in his foot to be his lack of form when he landed between buildings on patrol, or the fact that he tended to sit in a way that made his feet fall asleep. He couldn’t notice the cell deterioration because his body was working on overtime to counteract it. But he felt it in other ways.

His Spidey-Sense wasn’t on high alert anymore. He was lagged on patrol, unable to block simple throws and bullets that would barely graze him were lodging themselves into his skin. His super-healing was also offline. A bruise that would disappear in minutes was taking hours, and a cut that would take hours was taking days. He found himself lethargic and weak, even wheezing a bit after patrol. He didn’t think much of it until there came a day where he couldn’t feel his foot at all.

It had been an anxious trip to the compound, Peter weighing the conversation points he knew he would have with Mr. Stark, trying to figure out what he should start with.

Apparently his limp was  _ not  _ the focus of his concern. Instead, he was only attending to the infected stab wounds (yes, plural) and bullet holes that didn’t close. 

“Kid, what’s going on? Why didn’t you come sooner?”

“I just… they always heal. I thought they would…” he trailed off.

“When are these from?” 

“Two and half weeks…”

“ _ Two and half weeks _ ?!”

“And I know I should’ve said something earlier but I… I thought I could handle it.”

Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine. It’s fine. Just… let’s go do some blood tests, make sure that infection hasn’t spread, and get some stitches instead of your shoddy ace bandage work.”

As Tony scrolled through his phone, sitting in Peter’s medbay room as he got his stitches, the doctor tapped his shoulder and whispered for him to come speak with him in the hall.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest, a frown on his face to mask his concern. “What’s so important that you couldn’t just tell me in there?”

“We need you to get in contact with Peter’s guardian. She needs to be here to discuss… she needs to be here as possible.”

“Well you have her contact information. Just call her,” he said, slightly on edge from what she’s holding back and a little peeved that he’s not in on the loop.

“It’s important to have as much support as possible. It’d be better for her to hear it from you.”

“I don’t even know what ‘ _ it‘  _ is.” 

“Mr. Stark, I… it’s protocol that his guardian is present. If she allows you to be present, then so be it, but even though you own this medical facility, we still have protocol that not even you can veto, despite how hard you try.”

Tony nodded silently and pulled his phone out, calling May.

“Hey, Tony. Good timing, I just happened to be on break before I scrub in for a whipple. Everything alright?”

He hesitated. “I… Peter is in the medbay right now. The doctors said you need to be here.”

“Oh, God.”

“Really, May, it’ll be fine, I’m sure. She just said it’s protocol.” He didn’t like the way May sucked in a deep breath.

“You’re not a doctor, Tony. I know what… I know what that means. I’m on my way now.” She hung up before he could ask what she meant.

It was a grueling hour and a half as he waited for May’s arrival, Peter still under anesthetics from the extensive amount of minor surgeries and cleaning out the infected areas. The man with seemingly permanent worry lines on his forehead was relieved to see May arrive, but the worry lines returned when he saw her expression.

“May, I…”

“No. Where is… where is the doctor?” she asked, determined.

Almost on cue, the ginger man approached. “Ms. Parker. My name is Dr. Avepoint.” He looked between Tony and her.

Understanding what he was implying, she nodded. “He can hear this too.”

“Alright. You may… you might want to sit down.”

Her blood went even more cold than it were already. Sitting on the hard cushion, she found herself gripping onto Tony’s hand. “Is he… did something go wrong during surgery?”

“No, not at all. But, we found something in his bloodwork.”

She went pale. “What was it?”

“Peter has stage three CAM.” She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “It seems to have started in his left tarsal, but has spread into through his ligaments and tendons. Did he happen to mention any loss of feeling in his foot?”

“He has been limping but I just assumed that was because of his patrols.”

He nodded. “The most we can do is try to stop the spread from the rest of his body but with his enhanced metabolism, there’s no knowing what our treatments would do, especially to his genetically modified DNA. The next part of this process will be completely non-FDA approved. It will be experimental and is not guaranteed to diminish or exterminate the CAM. It may make him miserable for what could be his last days, so, this is up to him and you, but since you are his guardian and he is not legally an adult, you have a majority of the choice making.”

She took a shaky breath. “Can I… can I just think about this for a while? Can I… I need to think and I need to figure out how to tell him and I… we need to think.”

“We understand. However, there is more that you should know.”

She looked to Tony who squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Okay.”

“Because Peter’s enhanced cells are fighting off the CAM, that means that this will spread slower than the typical CAM. However, not only will it make the progress less predictable, but it also means that what his cells would typically be used for, like his healing, his super-strength, even his sticking abilities could be interfered with.”

“Are you saying he might lose his powers?” Tony interjected.

“It’s a possibility that is already proving itself to be more likely than not.”

Both Tony and May were silent for a beat. 

“We can discuss the details later. You can take as much time as you need.”

May nodded again silently. “Thank you. I… thank you.”

Dr. Avepoint exited leaving the two to wallow in their festering thoughts. May began to break down, tears streaming down her face as she shook violently, Tony just wrapping his arm around her as she soaked his t-shirt.

“May?”

She looked up to the sound of Peter’s voice, wiping her tears away quickly. “Hi baby. You’re up earlier than we expected.”

“W’as goin’ on?”

She smiled softly. “You just got out of surgery. They had to take of some of your wounds. They weren’t healing properly.”  
“‘M sorry.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s okay. Everything,” she choked back a sob. “Everything’s gonna be okay? Alright?”

“Can I… can I have somethin’ t’ eat?”

“Well you’re being pumped with a lot of antibiotics right now, so how about a nice cup of yogurt?”

He groaned. “But yogurt is yucky.”

She chuckled. “Well it’s not yucky when it’s vanilla and has fruit in it. You just don’t like my plain greek yogurt.” He nodded, his head falling limp on his chest. She held back another flow of tears. “I’ll go get that for you, honey.” Peter didn’t notice, but she ran out of the room as quickly as she could.

May was walking on autopilot as she wandered the compound, barely looking for the kitchen.

_ “Are you lost, Ms. Parker?”  _ FRIDAY asked from above.

“I…” she couldn’t find the words to say.

_ “The kitchen is down this hall, third door to the left.” _

“Thank you, FRIDAY. I… thank you.” She followed her instructions and rummaged through the fridge, putting together a parfait for Peter.  _ Ha. Parfait for Peter. Peter Parfait. Peter Parker partakes pretty parfaits. _ And suddenly she found herself laughing hysterically in that kitchen, her laughs interrupted by tears and sobs and back to the laugh. She found herself sitting on the floor, a yogurt covered spoon on the floor next to her and a sudden pair of firm arms around her.

“May, you have to breathe. Breathe.” And she couldn’t think but she breathed with the voice that told her to breathe. She followed its in and outs and all of a sudden she’s back in the real world, staring at the white cupboards and feeling the hardwood on her palms.

“Is Peter…”

“He’s fine,” Tony cut her off.

“Okay. Okay.  _ Okay.  _ Okay okay okay.”

“May…”

“No! It’s okay. I have to… I have to I have to I have to make this yogurt! Because Peter is hungry.”

Tony put his hand on her shoulder but she ripped away. “Don’t touch me!” She put a hand to her mouth, shocked. “I’m sorry, Tony. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s alright. I understand.”

“Do you?  _ Do you?  _ Because I’m only fifty-four and I’m a widow that’s about to lose her only son to terminal CAM. And that son? That son is a hero that this city needs and he’s a hero that has lost a lot of people and uses that pain to save a lot of people and you know what? He saved me. He made me a better person and he made me the mother I never though I could be and he is the  _ one good thing in my whole life  _ and now I’m losing the one good thing in my life and how the  _ hell  _ am I supposed to go on without him? How am I supposed to live knowing that he’s gone, Tony? I barely cope without Ben but I do. I keep going on because I have Peter and I’m strong for Peter and I and I and I… I can’t do that without Peter. I can’t do anything without Peter.”

“May…”

“What am I going to do?”

“The only thing you can do. You’re going to be there for him and you’re going to help him through whatever you choose the next step to be. You’re going to love him for as long as he lives whether that be until you die or until he does. Either way, you’re going to make sure he never doubts for one second that he’s in this alone because he needs us, May. I know you’re hurting and I know it hurts but Peter needs us.”

She nodded, grabbing the bowl of yogurt and fruit. “I think I’ll go see him now.”

“Do you think you’re ready to?”

She nodded. “I need to.”

As they entered the room, Peter smiled at them, his anestesia already worn off, though it had taken longer than it usually would’ve. 

“Hey, May. Thanks for the yogurt.” 

She began to hand him the yogurt but frowned. “I… I forgot the spoon. I’m sorry. I forgot the spoon.”

He laughed bubbly, a sound that she desperately needed. A sound she knew she wouldn’t hear for a long time once he heard the news. “It’s alright.”

Tony entered close behind May. “I brought a spoon.”

“See! Mr. Stark has a spoon. All good.” He dug into the yogurt, humming in delight.

May just savored the moment. Watching him eat without the weight of the world weighing him down for just that moment. Him looking up to give her a quick smile, which dissipated as he noticed her puffy eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

She smiled sadly. “Nothing, honey. Nothing you have to worry about right now.”

“Are you sure? Because you know we can… I’ll listen.”

“I know you will. But not right now, okay?”

He frowned but nodded. “Okay. How are the stitches? Do they know why I didn’t heal?”

Tony cut in, spouting out his prepared BS. “It was the infection. It interfered with your healing process.”

“I’ll make sure to be more careful on my next patrols, then. I promise.” Tony and May held in breaths that Peter didn’t quite understand. “Unless I’m not going on patrol anytime soon?”

“It’s not that, Peter. It’s… you just need time to heal, okay? You might be in the hospital for a while.”

“Because you need the IV of antibiotics,” Tony added.

“Oh. Okay. Then, could you grab my laptop from my room? I have to work on my essay for my research paper.”

May smiled again. “Of course. I can go grab that right now.”

Tony looked to her. “I could? If you want to…”

“Not now.”

“Okay.” 

And then there were two.

“What was that about?” Peter questioned.

“Nothing, kid. Tell me about your week. We didn’t get much catching up because of this whole debacle.”

“Oh, right! So Monday we started rhetoric which is totally stupid because like when am I ever going to need to tell someone how much pathos and logos they used? Right? But we’re learning it and we’re doing a bunch of essays on it and it’s like totally annoying. My brain was completely fried because we did a diagnostic test to see what our writing is like and I had to read like ten passages and write three different essays for them and it was  _ so boring _ …”

“Knock knock,” May said, entering again.

“That was quick,” Peter commented.

“I actually grabbed your computer and left it in my bag in the waiting room.”

“Oh, thanks!” He grabbed his computer and typed mindlessly.

“Tony? Could we… could we have a moment?” May asked.  
“Are you sure you want to be alone? I can…” Tony started.

“I think it should be between us,” she interrupted.

“Okay.” He got up from his chair and closed the door behind him.

“Peter… I…” she had to take a deep breath to settle herself.

“Hey, May. It’s alright. Take your time.”

“No I… it’s okay. Peter you… oh God. This is so hard. I, the doctor talked to us. He did some tests on your DNA and you… you have CAM. It’s stage three.”

He felt like he was in a wind tunnel, words flying around him like air blasting against his body, too fast to understand but still blasting against his core like bullet.

He felt like he was submerged in a waterfall, the water clogging his ears, and the roaring currents crashing beneath him.

He felt like he was turning to dust all over again, like his body is ripping itself apart atom by atom to be blown away into the air.

He felt empty. He felt numb. He felt his chest tighten and his stomach churn and his breathing stagger. He felt May’s hand gripping his hand and her tears falling onto his skin. But what he couldn’t feel? He couldn’t feel his left foot, and he never would again.

He didn’t talk for a while. He didn’t talk, sleeplessly staring at the ceiling tiles of the medbay in the discomfort of his stiff bed. He didn’t talk when they brought him his favorite french toast with the panko and cinnamon sugar. He didn’t talk when they refilled his antibiotics and asked for more blood work and checked his stitches to see its progress. He didn’t talk when he overheard muffled conversations through the door that he used to be able to hear completely clearly. He only talked just before May was about to leave.

“Where are you going?” he asked, like a child whose parents were leaving to go on an airplane ride and never come back.

“I’m just going to grab some fresh clothes from the apartment. I’m staying here at the compound with you for the weekend.”

“We’re… you’re staying here?”  
“We thought it would be best for me to be here in case you wanted to talk more. You know. About…”  
“I do. I think I… tell me what’s wrong with me, a-and what we’re going to do to fix it.”

“Honey it’s… it’s not that ea…” he looked to her with those big brown eyes, and she sighed. “The doctor said the only thing we can do is experimental. We don’t know what doses are right for you, which means we can only give you less than you need, rather than more, in case of overdosage. CAM treatment is already hard for non-enhanced people, because the body puts all of its energy into combatting the CAM cells and nothing else. You’re probably going to have to spend a lot of time in bed, and that means no school, no standing lab time, and…” she paused. “And no more Spider-Man for a while.” 

Peter sucked in a breath, but he nodded. “If Spider-Man can’t protect his city with his full strength, then maybe it’s best he doesn’t protect it at all.”  
“Peter, it’s okay to be upset…”

“No. No. I just… I need to get better. And if I will then that means… that means no more Spider-Man.” May’s forehead crinkled as she looked to him in concern. “What else?”’

“You know that there’s no way to regenerate the cells that die, but with your case, we have no idea what could happen. If we can stop the spread of the CAM with modified treatment, you can choose to wait and see if your Spider cells will regenerate it.” She paused, a little too long, her expression giving away too much to Peter.

“But?”

Hesitantly, she continued. “But, the CAM may be attacking the spider gene in your system. Foot CAM would usually spread up to the knee by now, but it hasn’t. We can’t be sure if the weakening of your powers is because its focusing on the CAM or if the CAM is focusing on it, but we… you have to be prepared for your powers to…”

“To never come back.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

Peter bit the inside of his mouth to hold back his tears. “Can I be alone again? You have to go get your stuff and I… we’re gonna be here longer than the weekend so you should get more clothes.”

“Okay. Are you sure you…”

“I’m sure.”

After May left, Peter found himself staring at his left foot, trying to wiggle his toes or flex his ankle, but to no prevail. He looked to his torso, the skin still pink and plump from the stitches. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand any of this.

“FRIDAY, please call Mr. Stark.”

_ “Would you like to summon him to your quarters?” _

“Yes please.”

Tony rushed to the room, a little out of breath as he entered. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Oh I… I am. I just… I wanted to know that while I’m getting treatment, if I could, I don’t know. Could I get a more comfortable bed? I’m gonna be in here for a while and I just…”

“We can figure something out. Of course.” His eyes were searching for more, trying to decode whatever could be happening in Peter’s head. “Is that all?”

“I also was wondering if I could have my friends over? I just need their company and I want to tell them the news myself.”

“Are you sure, Peter? You only got diagnosed yesterday…”

“It’s easier for me to rip off the bandaid. So, can they come to the compound?”

Tony paused but gave him a soft smile. “Their parents will need to sign some NDAs and get added to the visitor system, but of course they can.”

Ned was freaking out to say the least. He was giddy and he was almost bouncing every step he took. MJ was acting unimpressed, silently gawking at the facility as they entered.

Ned excitedly stage-whispered, “I’m in Tony Stark’s database,” as he got his handprint added to the system to which MJ replied, “whatever, loser.”  
However, all of that excitement disappeared when they were guided to the medbay, entering the room of the pale and weak Peter. 

He wasn’t super sick. You couldn’t look at him and tell that he was sick, but you could tell that that wasn’t Peter at his best. Ned could tell that that wasn’t Peter at his best.

“Hey guys,” Peter said weakly.

“Dude what… what’s wrong?” 

Peter waved his hand dismissively, not wanting to ruin his friend’s fun just yet. “I had some surgery and have to get these antibiotics through this IV. That’s all. I can’t exactly go anywhere without the IV and the whole protocol says I can’t walk anywhere yet, so do you want to see one of Tony Stark’s awesome computer controlled wheelchairs?”

Ned, not fully convinced in Peter’s lies, was a little blindsided by his fanboy instincts. “Do you need help…”

“No I got it. And don’t worry. I give an awesome tour.”

With an IV attached to the back of his wheelchair, and a hand on the control pad, Peter leisurely rolled around the halls pointing out the different aspects of the building. 

“One time, Mr. Stark and Mrs. Potts were having a contest to see who could play the most ridiculous song when they entered the main room, so we would just be sitting there, getting a snack or something, and Mrs. Potts would walk in and mariachi music would just blast through the surround sound speakers.”

“Did you join in too?” Ned asked.

“Of course I did. Mine was just between me and Mr. Stark when we would come into the lab and I once went in and had FRIDAY blare Sweet Victory from Spongebob.”

“Nice,” MJ said simply.

“Yeah it was pretty cool.”

“So what did you need surgery for?” Ned blurted out, the question that had burned a hole in his mind the entire tour.

“I uh… about that. Can we come out on the balcony for a bit?”

MJ and Ned, concerned, followed him out. The view wasn’t particularly beautiful, but the fresh air was something that Peter needed to muster up the courage to tell his friends the news.

They took it as well as they could. That’s the simplest way to put it. MJ cried for the first time in front of Peter and Ned was frozen. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t react, he just turned away and stared out at the grass.

“You guys can come visit whenever you want, that’s what Mr. Stark said. He added you to the system so you can come during visiting hours on most days. Text me first, though, just in case you can’t come on a certain day, alright?” 

“Peter are you… are you okay?” MJ asked.

“Well it’s inhibiting my super-healing so I…”

“No, Peter. Are  _ you _ okay?”

Peter paused. He looked to her eyes, still wet from tears, and he shook his head. “No. I’m not. And I thought that maybe having you guys here and just having someone else know would make me feel better, but it’s only cementing the fact that it’s real and I’m… I’m really scared.”

MJ grabbed his hand and held it in hers gently. “We’ll be here, Peter.”

Treatment started soon after that visit. It wasn’t much treating and a lot more tests. They were testing his blood samples for spider gene, they were squirting amounts of medicines into the test tubes, and they were determining how many CAM cells were in his body.

Though his hearing was deteriorating, he could still hear Dr. Avepoint telling May that the amount of CAM was a monumental amount. Because they were being blocked so heavily by the spidergene, they had been growing and multiplying, and when that dam of protection would break, it would ravish his entire leg in days. 

Peter hated to admit it, but he was having a lot of trouble with simple things the more the days went on. His vision was getting worse and worse, the world dull and blurry. He felt like he was going deaf, only being able to hear what was happening in the room he was in and what was directly outside of it. He could barely grip hard enough to open up the bottles of vitamin water that they brought him. At first he thought that this was him getting sicker, but then he realized that this was just what life was like before Spider-Man.

They had managed to get an optometrist in so that Peter could get new prescription glasses. It humiliated Peter to have to adorn the frames, even though May said they suited his face shape. He had to start using his inhaler again, the asthma not only affected by athleticism but also by the pollen in the air. The way the world could actually touch him again made him feel… weak. He felt weak and scared. He didn’t like that he couldn’t sense danger or stop a moving a car with his bare hands. He didn’t like that he got out of breath limping to the bathroom and still felt the stitches in his torso even after a fortnight's passing. He didn’t like being the person he used to be.

Peter kept doing the work he was missing in school. Maybe to keep a sense of normality to his life while he laid in the new twin bed in his medbay room. Maybe to keep his mind off of the bloodwork and shots. Maybe because he didn’t want to believe that preparing for a future he wasn’t guaranteed to have wasn’t ridiculous and a waste of time.

Mr. Stark still let him have lab time with him, the two’s maneuvering off their usual beat now that Peter was in the clunky wheelchair. He liked tinkering on side projects and robots, avoiding the topics of Spider-Man and the Spider-Man suit as much as possible. It was a silent agreement that that was not to be mentioned from either of them.

It wasn’t until two weeks of testing and blood-drawing that they approached Peter about treatment. As they entered his room, ready to tell him the good news of their discoveries, they found him staring at his leg, frustrated tears falling silently from his face.

They were too late to stop the spread from his foot. The days worth of spread turned out to be overnight. Peter could no longer feel or move his entire left leg. 

Peter stopped talking again. They injected him with chemicals that sometimes gave him rashes, sometimes made him nauseous, and sometimes made him feel very depressed, though he couldn’t tell if that was the medication or if that was just a side effect for being a terminally ill seventeen year old ex-superhero/vigilante. He had gained six pounds yet had completely lost his appetite, which was just not fair. Overall, he was not feeling the best.

After a month of unsuccessful treatment, pokes and prods and all the inbetweens, Peter had had enough.

“May?” Peter had asked her, the woman taking lots of time off of work so she could stay with Peter full time, Tony paying for what her work would not give her. 

“What’s up, sweetie? Is something wrong?”

He took a deep breath, mustering up the courage he wasn’t sure he had. “Yeah. Something _is _wrong. This. All of this. I… I don’t think I want to keep doing this.”  
“Peter…”

“Hear me out, okay? So far, the CAM has been spreading through my body without fail. My powers are gone, the CAM is coming close to affecting my internal organs and has already begun spreading down my right leg… I just… the medicine isn’t set in stone. I want to… I want my last days to be spent having a good time. I don’t want to remember my last months sitting in a hospital room. I want to do the things we never got to do. I want you to do that traveling you’ve always wanted to and I want you to do it with me. I want to see the world and cross things off of my bucket list and just be happy for however long I have.”

May, choking back tears, nodded. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll get. Okay?”

“Okay.”   
  


And so they were off. Tony took out Peter’s college fund, about $600,000 that would cover eight years at MIT incase he wanted to get a couple PHDs, and access to a debit card filled with more money than they would ever need that would be returned to him when they got back from their expedition. 

Their first stop was to see the Northern Lights in iceland. The air was chilled, the grass covered in due. Peter could only feel it under his right calf, but he relished in the feeling. He let the lights wash over any thoughts and doubts he had, he just let himself get lost in the colour. 

Next was beaches of Fiji. Now, Peter couldn’t feel the sand at all. May had put a towel under his legs, but it wasn’t like Peter could tell if his legs were on the sand or not. Peter had never really been to a beach. Growing up poor in Queen, New York didn’t give much opportunity. May told him that they had taken a trip with his parents once when he was a baby. She said he wore a cute little hat and he dug a big hole and jumped inside of it. He tried it again but it was hard to jump in it this time because now he was much bigger and also he couldn’t jump in general.

They drank smoothies with little umbrellas in it. May let him take sips of every alcoholic drink she got, but he didn’t like the taste of any of them. He stuck with his mango smoothies. 

Peter’s glasses got a lot of salt water on them, but that was okay. He liked the mist that hit his torso. It reminded him that he was alive. 

Peter wasn’t able to go into the ocean. It was too dangerous and he knew it. Mr. Stark had offered to make him legs like Rhodey’s, but Peter declined. He didn’t want any more attention on him and he wanted to get out as soon as possible.

Peter got souvenirs that he knew would only be cherished by May once they got back. If he got back at all. But he liked the little trinkets that he could carry around in his suitcase, little memorabilia that he could send photos to Ned of.

Ned and MJ got to join them on their third stop, Italy. They went to Rome to see the Colosseum and went on a boat ride in venice (that was a pain in the ass, getting Peter out of the wheelchair and into the gandala), they went to Florence and saw the art of the renaissance and Tuscany where May got to drink some fancy wine and they got to eat good bread. MJ finally had a reason to flaunt her abilities to translate ancient Latin text and Peter got to take some great photos with a polaroid camera he got in one of the shops.

Peter died in his sleep. There wasn’t a special last word or parting words or meaningful thanks to all the people he loved. He had done it before, written letters to every person that made an impact on his life, and always kept them with him in case something were to happen to him and he didn’t get to say anything. They would be kept for the rest of their lives.

Peter died peacefully, the artery that had gotten affected stopping his heart without pain. He died surrounded by friends and his last family. Tony wasn’t there and he kicked himself forever for not being there, but he did get a long letter and a special part of Peter’s will to remember him by.

Spider-Man was remembered by the world as a hero, and Peter Parker died a good young man. 

May lived on without him, finding as much love and good that she could. Tony poured a lot of money into CAM research and saved many lives. Midtown remembered Peter with the stereotypical memorials that schools give, the ones that meant a lot in the moment that people forget. But Peter Parker wouldn’t be forgotten because he had saved lives and he had made his mark on the world.

Peter Parker didn’t die saving the world. He didn’t die by sacrificing himself for the greater good. But, he died happy.


End file.
